3. Chapter 3
Istruggle against the hard grip of the person pulling me backward, one strong hand around my mouth, and an arm wrapped around my upper body. I manage to bite into the meaty part of the palm just as I’m dragged back through the door into the parking garage.
“Fuck, Ash, stop it,” Kacey growls at me as he lets me go, moving quickly to shut the open door.
I’m shaking, tears streaming down my cheeks as I move to open the door again to try to get to the guys. But Kacey just turns and wraps his hands around my shoulders, giving me a shake.
“Do you want to be arrested too?” he snaps.
My breath catches as I stumble back, my thoughts racing as I suddenly snap back to reality. ”Did you have something to do with this?” I ask, my voice stronger, but still trembling with emotion.
Kacey looks at me as though I just shot him. ”Of course I fucking didn”t,” he responds, genuine hurt crossing his features.
I shove my hands into my hair, frustration and fear intertwining into a knot in my chest. Everything is so messed up. I had been so careful to avoid being seen, but now we”re caught in the middle of a nightmare.
It”s then that I realize I left the note outside. Was this the consequence? This wasn”t the original threat. Or were they in more danger now, being in custody?
Kacey must have been thinking of the piece of paper too because he frowns and asks, ”What was that note, Ashley? I saw what it said. What were you warned about? When?”
I shake my head, feeling overwhelmed and disoriented. I need to get my bearings, figure out what”s going on. Before Kacey can press me further, I”m running. It takes a moment before I hear his curses and his footsteps following after me.
But I need him to follow this time. My feet take me past the SUV and Mustang, my hands slapping against the door to the room we tortured Enzo in. I try the handle pointlessly, finding it locked, as I wait for Kacey to catch up.
Motioning toward the door, I wait for him to take out the security card and swipe it against the reader. I’m momentarily surprised when it unlocks, half expecting that they wouldn’t have given him full access. I push that aside as we swing the door open and after we are both in, I shut the door again gently.
“Would they be coming down here?” I ask, briefly looking around the room at the tools. It wouldn’t be hard to see what their purpose is.
He grimaces in response. “If they have a warrant that covers this area, then yes.”
I get frustrated, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on me. If they come across this room, the guys are screwed. If they found me, then I”m screwed. We need to do something, and fast. But breaking into the SUV or the Mustang is out of the question—they”re too modern and too well-secured compared to Kacey”s old sedan which was left at the warehouse.
I glance down at myself, only now remembering that I”m still in the formal gown from the charity ball. The one thing I”m grateful for with this dress is not just the full coverage of my tattoos but also the deep pockets it has. I could have kissed the person who decided to design women”s formal dresses with pockets. I dig my hand into the folds of the skirt, retrieving the small slim phone I put in one of the pockets earlier and power it on.
With trembling hands, I enter my passcode and allow the phone to scan my face, unlocking it. Quickly, I navigate through the contacts until I find the one I need. With a shaky breath, I press the call button, and it barely rings once before a familiar voice comes across the line.
”To what do I owe the pleasure?” the voice teases, sending a faint smile to my lips.
”I need a full clean and transport,” I respond, my tone firm and all business.
The voice chuckles, smooth as silk in my ear. ”And what do I get in exchange?” he asks, playful but knowing.
I scoff. ”Money or a favor, Kallen,” I reply, my tone final.
He just laughs. ”Can”t blame a guy for trying, again. When do you need this?” His tone shifts, losing some of its earlier flirtatiousness.
”Within the next five minutes,” I say, flinching as the urgency seeps into my voice.
”Seriously?” he exclaims, disbelief evident.
”Yeah. Also, it needs to be discreet. The room we”re in is in the parking garage, but the building is swarming with cops and FBI,” I disclose, feeling a knot of anxiety tighten in my stomach.
Kallen starts cursing loudly, causing Kacey to raise an eyebrow in curiosity, likely catching some of the conversation. ”This is going to be a big fucking favor, babe,” Kallen groans, the whine in his voice almost making me smile.
He asks for the address, and I provide it immediately before Kallen simply hangs up.
Kacey tilts his head and raises an eyebrow at me. “Should I even ask?”
I grimace before I start to walk toward the table along the wall with the tools. “Probably not.”
There are a lot of items on the table ranging from pliers to hammers and also an array of knives. Looking around at the other items in the room, I grab some of the plastic I know they use for bodies and grab one of the knives to cut a large section off.
Picking up the two firearms that are there I look at both of them and consider my options, there is only so much a girl can do. I shove the smaller of the two into one of my dress pockets, it looks like a small .38 hammerless revolver. The other one, a Beretta 9mm, I hold out to Kacey.
He walks over and takes it from my hand, shoving it into the back of his jeans. He moves to stand next to me and picks up the spare clip while I grab the packet of bullets for my revolver and put them into my other pocket.
There are several knives but I don’t have many options for those, there is only one in a sheath. Lifting the long dress, I secure it to the garters of the lingerie I’m wearing before letting the dress fall back to the floor again. Kacey’s eyes are wide, and I can see him physically swallow when I look back at him, there is heat in his gaze, and I wish we had time to explore it.
Collecting all the other knives and weapons I pile them into the plastic and carefully roll them up, just as a soft knock sounds at the door. Striding over, I open the door, expecting Kallen’s team on the other side. I didn’t expect Kallen himself.
The man is tall, and intimidating. He is even taller than Nix which isn’t an easy feat. And like Nix, he has tattoos covering most of the visible muscular skin he has on display. But his personality is the opposite.
He grins at me as he steps past me and into the room, his eyes instantly roaming over Kacey. “You needed to come personally? Should I be honored?” I say dryly as his team follows him into the room and I close the door behind them.
“Babe. You said ‘we’re’ in the parking garage. Like I wasn’t going to come and see who actually got the privilege of working up close with you,” Kallen says, humor in his voice. “He looks like a cop.”
Kacey purses his lips as an edge enters his eyes, and I sense his tension rising. ”US Marshal,” I reply simply, watching Kallen”s reaction closely.
A smile tugs at Kallen”s lips, but his eyes remain assessing, never leaving Kacey”s form. I can see the others in his team spreading out through the room, silently assessing the situation.
”So, is he the cleanup or the transportation?” Kallen asks, his tone serious.
I scoff and roll my eyes at the disgruntled look that crosses Kacey”s face. ”Transportation,” I respond, my voice firm.
I jab a pointed finger into Kallen”s side, and he flinches away. For someone who looks so intimidating, he’s surprisingly ticklish. He nods at me while I walk over to pick up the rolled up plastic and walk back to him, grinning at one of Kallen’s guys, Lake, as I do. If the man wasn’t as deadly as a rattlesnake I may have teased him about his name.
“Hey, darlin,” he drawls, his southern accent prominent.
A slight growl comes from Kacey, much to the amusement of the men in the room, Nikolai and Wilder both smile and dip their heads to me in respect. I roll my lips to hide my grin, but I know we don’t have time to play.
”Alright, play nice, boys,” I interject, trying to diffuse any tension. ”We need to go.”
As I open the door again, Kallen walks out first and heads over to a blacked-out SUV, holding the door open for me. Kacey follows me out, and Lake trails behind. The door shuts behind him, and Kacey frowns, glancing back at the door and no doubt thinking about the two other men in the room we”re leaving behind. I just slide into the car, knowing time is of the essence.
When Kacey gets in after me, he opens his mouth, likely about to question leaving the men behind. But I cut him off. ”They”re staying to clean it and take out anything incriminating. It won”t take them long, but we need to leave,” I say, my tone leaving no room for argument.
Kallen and Lake take their places in the front seats, and the engine revs to life.
Lake takes the wheel, his demeanor focused as he navigates the vehicle through the parking garage. Kallen presses something on the dashboard, and the gates ahead raise smoothly, allowing us to exit without hindrance. I make a mental note to ask for one of whatever device he used to bypass the security.
As we merge onto the street, Lake glances at me through the rearview mirror. ”Where we taking you, darlin?” he asks, his voice calm despite the urgency of the situation. And he can’t help but continue to tease the tense man beside me.
I give him an address about an hour away. It”s not the apartment I went to with Nix; the moment I received a letter there, I knew I couldn”t use it as a main location for long after that.
I no longer stay in one location for long, moving between apartments frequently under the guise of being a long haul flight attendant. I never keep the same schedule, I never get to know my neighbors, and I never make ‘friends’. I had associates and contacts, people like Kallen and his team who could be called on to help when I needed them.
A network of people who took the law into their own hands.
A network I created.
Even now, as we sit in silence, Kallen and Lake knowing not to ask questions, I suddenly feel lonely. The time with the guys in my life again is already causing irrevocable damage to my ability to live my life alone and cut off from everything that matters.